


An Angel

by mols



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, POV Second Person, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rare Pairings, reference to nazism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mols/pseuds/mols
Summary: When someone makes all of those incredable things they didn't need to do to you, they sure are angels. You don't make questions, either, you just accept the care and thanks God - and them - for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruinsrebuilt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinsrebuilt/gifts), [Sanwall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanwall/gifts).



The thing is: he doesn’t make questions, he doesn’t doubt you; he trusts on you (almost) fully. It can be (or look) pretty bad in several situations but it doesn’t look bad at all when you feel yourself filled with rage, frustration and sorrow towards something you cannot fully grasp, because it’s a political party, it’s a nation, it’s people you don’t know all that well to distinguish between the (forced to do terrible stuff) good ones and the ones that sadistically hate you and the people like you, with the same blood, the same culture, sometimes even the same religion.

He doesn’t make questions and he supports you with a subtle nod and a small smile that curves his lips aside enough to you to see. You feel the most relieved and relaxed under the touch of his young but calloused hand against your tensed shoulder, as tensed as you clenched jaw and your shaking arms - they shake too but you ignore it because this is a sign of weakness, something you don’t want to associate yourself with.

He trusts you and follows you. He can not fully understand your pain but he seems to suffer because you suffer. He feels that sadness and sorrow through you, by feeling you, watching your eyes, your hands clenching in fists and you feel guilty for it at times; when there are just the two of you awake, in a strange dark room, staring at a broken ceiling of an abandoned house somewhere in Austria, trying to avoid each other’s eyes, then you feel specially guilty, because he feels you - what you desperately try to hide -, even from afar.

At some point, you sleep with him more than you’d have imagined and realized those days, in Austria. You sleep with your head against his narrow chest and you cry to sleep every night, with him as the only witness and he never says a word. You cuddle against him for the days and days up to come after you two got to Austria. You avoid everybody and even his eyes during the day but you always come back, at night, to him and you crawl to him and curl him with your whole body.

You sleep with him, until something else awakes. Lust, desire, love, empathy. Any of those things that had bounded you two a long time ago, and some others that showed up in the middle of your journey. You two instead of sleep, just sleep, one night you two fuck. You two fuck in the way you learnt and knew how to do it. You don’t know about how queers do it but you don’t care and don’t want to know. You just want him and this and he wants you as much, so who cares?

There is a war going on and you are pretty aware of that so why should you care with the things that happen between you and other man? God knows how much you suffered and is in need of something else, something good, something holly (at least if Skinny were a woman). You don’t mind he isn’t a woman truly, actually you like him the way he is - you don’t want to exchange him with anybody else - and he seems to be of the same opinion about you.

When the war ends, you don’t know what to do, with yourself or with him and with both of you. You just keep repeating actions, habits until he decided there it was a time to change and he changes and goes back home. You don’t know where home is for him, the specific place, so you don’t follow him - you think about looking for the location through Army papers, but Skinny was decided to go home and not say you where home was, so you just don’t.

You live through habits until you go back home. You need to find out how to live with the pain and the missing and the frustration. It takes a lot. You even disapear for a time, but at some point you sigh and realize you found it. You found some kind of happiness and peace; although even then you find yourself thinking about a boy from the Army, the scent of his hair and his skin. It doesn’t matter anymore, of course, but you miss him.

Sometimes you wish you had gone through those papers but maybe it would end up in another bad memory and so you are pleased to just have in memory that you two had had each other back then and it had been enough at the time.


End file.
